Through a Glass, Darkly or, Jim Sonnett's 'Other' Pa
by LauraHuntORI
Summary: An exploration of the entire series' premise through the lens of events in the Season 1 Episode 18: "What's in a Name?" A mirror image, while reversed, may be more revealing than you think. Characters: James Sonnett & Kevin McKey (who calls himself 'Will Sonnett' in the episode)
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **_For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known. _– I Corinthians 13:12, Holy Bible, KJV

**Disclaimer: **I don't own even the smallest part of this and am writing it only to amuse. Please go purchase copies of the DVDs of the show from the people who do own it, so we can increase the Sonnetts' reputation.

* * *

The wagon, garishly advertising 'Professor McKey's Medicine Show' in gaudy crimson, gilt, and indigo, slowed to a halt. "Whoa, Nelly," the middle-aged 'professor' called to his mare.

For her part, Nelly was always inclined for a rest, so allowed just this one time that it was in her best interest to obey her master and, relieved for the moment of the necessity of forward movement, began instead an agreeable investigation of the strip of grass growing sweetly down the center of the rutted track.

Meanwhile, Professor McKey heaved his generous girth out of the wagon and down into the 'road' to investigate the obstacle that lay across the thinly traveled track.

It was the body of a man.

Kevin's heart leaped into his throat. _Oh, dear God, no! _Blood was everywhere. McKey's Miracle Tonic would never cure this poor man.

It was dismaying, to say the least. The professor listened hard, but heard no other sounds; looked, but saw no one around. He and the mare were alone with the dead man.

The motive for the murder must have been robbery. The rutted track showed the passage of several different sizes of horseshoe since the rain a few hours before, one set going south and three going north, but there was no horse wandering nearby, and the man had been stripped to his bloody shirt. His gun belt and even his boots were missing. At least the bandits had left him the dignity of his trousers to be buried it.

Kevin stood at gaze a moment, contemplating his fellow creature's untimely end, for the man was young still, probably not yet thirty, his golden hair (where it wasn't matted with blood) gleaming in the afternoon sunlight. The bloody stain on his shirt seemed to be growing larger. _How can he still be bleeding when he's— _Heart suddenly pounding, Kevin knelt next to the young man and fumbled for a pulse. _God, he's still alive! _Kevin swung the young man up into his still-strong arms, carried him into the wagon, and hurried on into Tucson.

* * *

"Your son is very lucky," the doctor said. "A little lower, a little higher, and he'd be dead."

Kevin nodded. "Thank you, doctor. He'll be all right, then?"

"He'll have to take it easy for a while, but yes, he should make a full recovery."

Professor McKey heaved a sigh. "Good." He smiled to himself.

"Would you like to see him?"

"What?"

The doctor was giving him a strange look. "Would you like to see your son? He should be awake by now."

What could he say? No? Kevin wondered why he'd claimed to be the man's father. Now he'd look like a fool. He swallowed. "Of course," he lied.

"Jim," the doctor called softly. "Your father's here."

The golden head turned towards the door, and velvet brown eyes seemed to glow with astounded, disbelieving delight while he took in the man in the doorway, then the pale face contracted with pain and turned away.

"How are you, boy?" Kevin asked, breathless himself at the labored sound of the young man's breathing. Kevin was certain the man would reveal his falsehood to the medical practitioner, but in fact the only response to his query was a sound midway between a whimper and a sob.

Assuming his distress to be physical, the doctor asked gently, "Can you answer us, Jim? How do you feel?"

A pale tongue tried to moisten the dry lips, and a whispery tenor rasped, "I hurt."

"That's good," the doctor's soft voice assured him cheerfully. "It means you're not dead." He smiled at his patient, then continued, "Try to rest now. I need to talk to your father, but I'll be back in a few minutes to give you some medicine that should help with the pain."

The high forehead creased at the word _father_, and the velvet brown eyes flickered towards the big man near the door, but all the patient said was, "Thank you, doctor," as the two older men left the room.

Professor McKey paid the doctor's bill and accepted a packet of bandages and another of medicine. "I assume you'll be staying at the hotel," the doctor said, his tone that of one who makes a statement rather than asks a question.

"Well," the ersatz medicine man began, "I thi—"

"Pa." The young man, impossibly, had risen from bed and was standing in the doorway. "I'm well enough to travel," he declared, his manner undeniably urgent, "if you want to keep going."

Kevin stared at his 'son' in astonishment, what time the doctor was objecting, "Look hear, young man, you can't just—"

"I know how important it is for us to reach Prescott on time." He was staring at the ground, as Kevin had seen Mexican children do as a way of showing respect.

Professor Kevin McKey, who no more had a schedule or appointment in Prescott than he had a son, nodded. "We'll take it in easy stages," he assured the disapproving doctor, then helped his 'son' out to the wagon.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: ****_"_**_I was a stranger, and ye took me in.__"_ Matthew 25:35c, Holy Bible, KJV

**Disclaimer: **I don't own even the smallest part of this and am writing it only to amuse. Please go purchase copies of the DVDs of the show from the people who do own it, so we can increase the Sonnetts' reputation.

* * *

What are the three magic words? To many people, the answer was "I love you."

To Jim Sonnett, the answer was and always had been, unequivocally, "Your father's here."

Every holiday, every joy, every pleasure, all rolled into one. _Your Pa's here. _The very words sounded sweet.

There were so many things he'd wanted to tell Pa, so many things he'd wanted to show him, so many things he'd hoped the two of them could do together. Someday. When Pa could stay. Or when James could go with him. Just to be with Pa had felt _so good._

Just _bein' with_.

His face felt hot. And wet.

The man who had saved him, who'd brought him to the doctor, wasn't Pa. For a moment, he'd believed, but it wasn't. And it hurt. It hurt _so much. _But then, everything hurt. Even breathing hurt. Jim took slow, shallow breaths.

Of course the man wasn't Pa. He'd left Pa.

Pa was taking care of Jeff. He saw again for a moment his infant son covered in blood, saw the haze of black powder in the air, heard a woman's voice screaming.

No, the man was not Pa. But Jim wished he were. And somehow…somehow, the part of him that had never stopped being _James_ couldn't help liking the man for pretending he was Pa.

* * *

**_Bam-Bam-Bam-Bam-Bam!_**

Gunfire, unmistakably. He'd heard too many shots not to be sure.

And God, he _hurt. _Terribly. _He was hit!_

**_Bam-Bam-Bam! _**

A roaring like thunder, was the battle still going on? Surely, there'd be more than one gun?

**_Bam-bam-bam-bam-bam!_**

He should go and help whoever it was. He felt for his holster. Fire surged along his arm and through his side, across his belly and down his leg. His teeth clenched convulsively. _Where was he hit? _His holster had been removed, and it was too dark in the ambulance for him to see where they'd tossed it.

**_Bam-bam-bam!_**

They'd have to manage without him. Despite the firefight outside, and the fire that burned in every part of his body, Jim Sonnett slept.

* * *

Kevin had been afraid the gunfire would bother the young man, but money was money: the opportunity to do a show had been too good to resist. Anyway, there had been no cause for concern. The man was sleeping like a champion. Kevin reached to feel the pale cheek, the broad high forehead. He was warm. Too warm. And too pale. He'd lost an awful lot of blood.

"Don't die on me, kid," he whispered.

A dry rasping noise startled him. It was coming from the injured man. It took Kevin a moment to realize the man was laughing. He was awake, the huge brown eyes clear and gazing back at Kevin with what seemed like real fondness. "Oh, I've survived worse than this, 'Pa.' That's no brag, just fact."


End file.
